Mark was inclined to think not. Shortly after the boy was carried away, Lyman had gone East, got into trouble, and served a term of some years in a prison.
During those years, probably the boy had drifted out of his knowledge. Doubtless he could furnish a clue, but for obvious reasons, it would not do to apply to him.
"I am very much obliged to you for your information," said Mark, as he rose to go.
"You are heartily welcome, sir. Would you mind writing me, if you find out anything about poor Jack?"
"I will certainly do so, Mrs. Finn. I shall lose no time in going to St. Louis."
"Heaven speed you, and bring you success," said Mrs. Finn, fervently.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE LITTLE MATCH BOY.
"Matches! Matches! Here's your nice matches!" was heard in a shrill treble, proceeding from a little boy on Clark Street, in Chicago.
He looked thin and pale, and it was easy to see the poor little fellow was poorly fed, as well as ill-clad.